On Top of the World
by TheNewIdea
Summary: A rewrite of Welcome to Disney World. In which Oswald arrives at Magic Kingdom; Timon, Chip, Rafiki, and Dale run Animal Kingdom; Sven and Olaf observe the lifestyle of EpCot and the various residents within; The Caballeros put on a show in MGM; and Figment and the Brers become increasingly significant throughout. Suggestions are welcome.
1. The Thing About Brers

Chapter One: The Thing About Brers

Oswald the Lucky Rabbit walked through the gates of Magic Kingdom, his ears tucked under a baseball cap and a red balloon in his hand. Behind him was Mickey, his half-brother, who was also wearing a baseball cap and holding a balloon, his was green, Oswald's favorite color.

"What are we doing here Mickey?" Oswald asked curiously, looking around and seeing that Main Street was completely empty, "And why am I holding a balloon?"

Mickey laughed and shook his head, "Come on Os. You don't turn 88 every day."

Oswald huffed, for technically, Mickey was several months early, it being early June and his birthday being in September, but for the sake of the moment he decided to let it pass. Mickey gently patted his brother's back and made his way down Main Street.

Entering the Emporium, Mickey, followed closely by Oswald, who scowled, annoyed at the merchandise, for he despised stuffed animals, toys, figurines and anything having to do with the color with pink; approached the counter and rang the bell.

"Goofy" Mickey called, projecting his voice, "Goofy, where are yah?"

Oswald took off his hat and began unfolding and airing out his ears. Looking around he noticed that Goofy was nowhere to be found.

"What's going on Mick?" Oswald asked, "Why are we here if there's no customers?"

"The park isn't open yet" Mickey explained quickly, still looking around for Goofy, "Come on Goofy, where'd yah go?"

Oswald groaned and quietly began to massage his feet, for they were already starting to hurt, the ride over to the park not the most comfortable of experiences. Mickey, rather uselessly, continued to ring the bell as if it would actually serve a purpose. Slowly the mouse began dancing to it, having developed a rhythm. Oswald, who was easily annoyed by his brother, considered taking the bell and ringing it constantly in Mickey's ears, in hopes of causing them to bleed and his eardrums to burst. This of course, did not happen, the scenario only existing in the rabbit's subtly disturbed imagination.

"Will you kindly stop ringing that bell?" Oswald exclaimed, his patience for the day wearing thin, "It's really getting on my nerves."

Mickey stopped and turned around, a sheepish smile on his face. At that moment, as if by pure coincidence, Goofy, accompanied by Donald, and Minnie appeared from the back of the store, in the direction of Casey's.

"How's it going Mick?" Goofy asked as he walked up to the counter, casually touching the bell as if it were important, despite having no significance, "Did yah ring?"

Oswald nodded and shook his head in complete disbelief, for only the deaf would not be able to hear the bell when rung numerous times, especially considering the emptiness of the park.

"Yeah" Oswald answered, "We did. Congratulations Goof, you owe me a new set of ears. Better yet get me a new set of eyes too, ones that make you a little bit better to look at."

Donald, at hearing this, immediately went on the defense. Straightening his hat and tie, for no particular reason, Donald unceremoniously slammed his foot on Oswald's as hard as he could, causing the rabbit, in turn, to bite his lip and hold back screaming the many profanities that were going through his head.

"What's your problem?" Donald asked, stepping up, "Why are you being so hostile?"

Mickey, taking pity on his brother, stepped in, forcing Donald to ease up on Oswald's foot.

"You're going to have to give him a pass" Mickey explained, bringing his voice down to a whisper, "He's new here and older than all of us. I know that's no excuse and that's fine, but he's ignorant in how things work here."

Donald glanced towards Oswald, who was massaging his feet again, and then back at Mickey.

"You're kidding right?" Donald continued, "Look at the guy, he's pathetic, not to mention an asshole."

Mickey secretly couldn't help but agree, for Oswald was incredibly pathetic, and this both gardened pity and bad temperateness on his part. It didn't take Mickey long to have an idea as to what to do with him, it was obvious that he needed to be around people who understood him, who had similar ideals and mannerisms. The negative attitude was something that would definitely have suited Donald for the role, but Oswald's ideology, which was in large part stuck in the 1930's, was a problem. Mickey, with this in mind, made the only logical choice.

"Take him to the Briar Patch" Mickey replied, "Brer Rabbit will sort him out."

Donald raised his eyebrows, "You sure that's a good idea?" he asked in turn, "Those Brers aren't the best people to be around. We shouldn't have given them a chance in the first place considering that they don't even have anything to their name anymore."

Mickey shook his head and rolled his eyes, for Donald's opinion of the Brers was shared among many of his cohorts. It was no secret that the Brers were part of the _Song of the South_ production, easily considered, at least in some contemporary circles, to be one of the most racist and profoundly disrespectful Disney films ever created. However, Mickey knew what most did not, that the film was a product of time and time heals most, if not all, wounds, especially in regard to ideology and world views.

"Take Oswald to Brer Rabbit and Brer Bear" Mickey repeated, "Have faith Donald, they've never steered us wrong before. Why start now?"

Donald shook his head, not believing him for a second, for especially when it came to Brer Rabbit and his knack for getting in and out of trouble. Still, if not in good faith, than for Mickey's sake, Donald complied with the request, pulling Oswald to his feet.

"Come on Oswald" Donald said, grumbling slightly to himself, "Let's go."

Oswald folded his arms, insulted, "And where are we going?" he replied, "I refuse to be dragged anywhere. Explain yourself."

Donald said nothing and casually made his way out of the Emporium, forcing Oswald to follow him without question. Mickey meanwhile, turned to Minnie and Goofy, not really sure how to continue a conversation after Oswald's intimate departure. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Mickey slowly began walking around the store, heading towards Casey's, motioning for them to follow.

"How are we doing?" Mickey asked, talking to Minnie, who was currently going over the park's funds, in the middle of making rounds with Goofy, who ran Casey's with the titular Casey, when she visited Mickey.

"Later Mickey" Minnie exclaimed, "We've got bigger things to worry about than money. What are we going to do about Oswald?"

Mickey shrugged, he had hoped that things would be ready by the time they had arrived, but Goofy's presence in Casey's told him otherwise.

"What about Oswald's welcome party?" Mickey continued, "We can't not have a welcome party."

Goofy nodded, in full agreement, for to not have a welcome party would go against everything they stood for.

"The Princesses have taken care of that" Goofy answered, "It'll be at Beast's Castle. Last I heard everything is ready, all that's needed is to get him there."

Mickey sighed in relief, thankful that he had a staff that understood simple instructions and the importance of deadlines. It made the guilt of ruining Oswald's life easier to bare, and as a result, easier to let go of.

It was at this moment that Figment, the small purple dragon from _Journey into_ _Imagination!_ in EpCot, appeared out of thin air. He was holding a clipboard and whistling a song to himself, the only one that he knew, _One Little Spark_ , easily the most annoying tune created for a theme park ride next to _It's a Small World_. Figment was wearing a red baseball cap that he never seemed to take off for any reason, ceremonial or otherwise, almost as if it were permanently attached to his head. Otherwise he was a bit older than he normally would be, larger in all areas, at least large enough to still be considered small, and uncharacteristic to his nature, more mature, and thus able to take on light responsibility. Currently Figment was in charge of the special effects, a job previously held by Horace Horsecollar.

"How's it going Figment?" Minnie asked, being as polite as possible, "Everything ready for tonight?"

Figment nodded, "Absolutely" he exclaimed jubilantly, "Everything's all set up, even got that crazy rooster to help out, talk about a lifetime achievement award!"

Minnie smirked and said nothing, for the rooster Figment was referring to, Panchito Pistoles, was an annoyance at best and a deviant insane nuisance at his worst, why he was given a job with Figment, who has a similar history, she had no idea. Obviously Mickey felt that he owed it to them both, Figment never really leaving _Journey into_ _Imagination_ and Panchito never really being used outside of the rare appearance in the park. Minnie knew that Donald had something to do with Panchito's hiring, if only because they were both part of the Three Caballeros, all of them in need of a job.

"You just tell Mr. Pistoles to tone it down" Mickey said, butting in, "We don't want him burning down half the park like last time."

Figment laughed, for he remembered it well, especially considering that it happened three weeks ago and was still in fresh memory.

"Oh no" the dragon declared, "Wouldn't want that. I'll tell him, of that you can be sure of. How's our little friend getting along?"

Mickey gestured towards Frontierland, Figment mentioning Oswald, for almost anyone who was involved in the park and had the ability to hear knew about Oswald's arrival, the only exception being the residents of Briar Patch, being both introverts and isolationists, and the villains, mainly Pete, Ursula, Captain Hook, Jafar, and Scar, who were employed at the park and often kept out of the loop when it came to such matters.

"Oswald's over at Splash Mountain with Donald" Mickey explained, "The Brers are going to look after him for a bit."

Figment folded his arms and raised his eyebrows, suspicion settling in.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Figment asked, "You know how those Brers can be sometimes. They're not especially too fond of change."

Mickey nodded, having foreseen the issue when he made the decision, still he decided to stand by it, if nothing else to see what would happen.

"Relax Figment" Mickey said, waving him off, "Everything's going to be fine."

Figment huffed and shook his head, refusing to believe it.

"That's what everyone says before something goes wrong" Figment returned, "Next thing you know they'll have him rotating on a spit or something."

Mickey brushed Figment off as mere banter, mostly because for the most part the dragon liked to hear himself talk even if it didn't make anything in the way of sense. Minnie and Goofy however, took Figment's statement to heart, concern and worry on their face, as if they feared that Oswald roasting over an open fire was actually going to happen.

"Come on" Mickey exclaimed with a laugh, motioning for Minnie and Goofy to continue, "Os is going to be fine. You'll see."

Walking to Splash Mountain, Oswald saw nothing particularly special, the only thing he saw was a log ride and the long line that accompanied it. Donald laughed and shook his head, delighted in himself that Oswald only saw what the visitors saw, his attitude blinding him from what was really there.

"Welcome to the Briar Patch" Donald said, a bit more high spirited, the walk having done him some good.

"Big deal" Oswald replied with a huff, "It's just a ride."

Donald rolled his eyes and walked through the line, thankful that the park wasn't open and full of people waiting for a five minute ride, which is what half of Disney World was in regards to time. Oswald, reluctantly, followed, sulking to himself, his red balloon from earlier forgotten as it dragged the ground, mimicking his ears, which drooped over his shoulders telling the world of his lack of excitement. As for his hat, it was discarded, long forgotten, having been dropped from the walk from Main Street to Splash Mountain.

"What's the big idea here anyway?" Oswald asked as they made up the steps, bypassing most of the line in favor of getting in the Patch, "You guys use magic to make this place real or something?"

Donald shrugged, for he didn't really have an answer to the question. To the Disneys there were always two sides to everything, what the park visitors saw, simple rides, which they maintained, and what the rides represented. In short, Adventureland had real pirate ships, oceans, and rivers; Frontierland was occupied with Old West towns, with real people; similarly the Streets of America was a colonial town. The park continued this way all the way around, from Magic Kingdom to EpCot, everything was both real and imaginary.

"You see only what you want to see" Donald explained, "We can't make it happen for you. Otherwise, this place is just a bunch of theme park rides, atmosphere, and overpriced food."

Oswald sighed, he failed why that was a bad thing. In Os-Town everything was pretend, the illusion was accepted and dealt with because it was all the residents had. Now, it seemed, there was a choice, something that Oswald never had, and never really wanted.

"That's all it is" Oswald declared, "Can't you see that Donald? We're living in a fantasy."

Donald laughed, the idea seemed hysterical, for if Oswald's words were true, then technically speaking, none of the Disneys really existed, which was ludicrous and virtually insane.

"You want fantasy go to Fantasyland" Donald continued, "They got plenty of it over there. Enough to make you sick to your stomach."

Oswald looked up to the sky, wondering for a moment why he was suddenly dragged into an insane asylum.

"You're all delusional" he declared, "Delusional. Is this some kind of punishment?"

Donald did not answer and for the sake of time, made his way to the end of the line, standing in front of the logs. Under normal circumstances, if Donald were to put his foot forward he would step directly into the log, however because of the duality of Disney World and its inhabitants, with the simple snap of the finger, which wasn't really necessary for himself, really more of a formality in order to convince Oswald of the idea, Donald entered the Briar Patch, standing on a small patch of grass in a relatively open field, leaving Oswald alone at the log ride.

Oswald did not question Donald's sudden disappearance, instead taking it with all the pessimism he could muster and became extremely annoyed for no real reason other than to have something viable to be annoyed about. The rabbit began rambling to himself about how he didn't really want to be there and that he would rather be at home inside a dark room away from the world in order to fester and brood about his misfortunes that never really befall him. As far as he was concerned, everything that was bad in the world existed because of Mickey and anything having to do with him was equally guilty of destroying the world. In the middle of his ranting and various raving, which isn't really important, Donald's hand reappeared, searching for the rabbit as the duck felt for him through the other side of the park. After several attempts of grabbing useless air, Donald's hand found what it was looking for, in the form of Oswald's right ear, and pulled as hard it could, lifting the rabbit in the air and pulling him through inside the Briar Patch.

"What the hell was that for?" Oswald asked, swinging his arms around uselessly, Donald still holding him up off the ground.

"We're going to meet the Brers" Donald explained, "For that, you had to come to the other side."

Oswald raised his eyebrows as he yanked himself out of Donald's grasp, falling to the ground, landing on his backside.

"Other side?" Oswald pressed, "What are you talking about?"

Donald gestured around, a small smile creeping on his face.

"Look around you" Donald answered, "You're standing in a field."

The small field that they were standing in was surrounded almost entirely by thorns and a few roses. There was one break in the patch, on which a path was laid out. Walking down this path, trying their best to avoid the thorns, Donald and Oswald pushed through the rose bush and came to a small river, on the other side was a small burrow, the home of Brer Rabbit.

The burrow was modest in appearance, outside was a small campfire, over which was a small spit, enough to roast a meal for a rabbit to enjoy comfortably. Next to the campfire was a mailbox, labeled with Brer Rabbit's name and a small red flag. The tree that was next to the burrow, the home of Mr. Bluebird, was sagging almost precariously into the river. Both of them were empty, the owners nowhere to be found.

"Something's not right" Donald said, stepping on some stepping stones as he crossed the river, "Brer Rabbit's always home."

Oswald shrugged, "Maybe he's visiting friends?" the rabbit inquired, not really caring, "What does it matter anyway? I'm sure he'll be back."

Donald shook his head, for it was extremely out of character for Brer Rabbit to be doing anything, the Brers, Brer Rabbit in particular, known for being exceptionally lazy and notorious for doing absolutely nothing any given day of the week. The only place that Brer Rabbit was willing to go to get away from the mundane life of the Briar Patch would be the Laughing Place, but even that was an occasion among occasions.

"Come on" Donald exclaimed, "Let's find Preacher Fox. He'll know what's going on."

Oswald rolled his eyes, for he personally had no idea who Preacher Fox was or why he was so important. He also found it incredibly annoying that Donald said everything that he was going to do instead of actually doing it, almost as if he were constantly telling his body what to do. Still, seeing no other option other than to follow Donald, for he had come this far, Oswald did as he was told and accompanied him further into the Briar Patch towards the home of Preacher Fox.


	2. Colors and Dangerous Weapons

Chapter Two: Colors and Dangerous Weapons

It was at this moment that Cogsworth was beginning to lose his mind. Belle had invited several of her royal friends that Cogsworth could never remember the names of, and instead of politely asking to use the ballroom for the upcoming festivities automatically assumed that it was within her right to use the space without question. Cogsworth, being the head butler, took both extreme offense and incredible annoyance at this, for not only were there too many people taking up space that was needed for tables and chairs, but they were all too busy arguing about what it was they were going to do in order to help; ironically, impeding the process.

"I think we should decorate everything pink" Aurora exclaimed, "Pink is a wonderful color, especially for rabbits. Really brings out their eyes."

Mulan, who was next to her, huffed and rolled her eyes, for she disagreed completely, believing that Oswald, being both a male and a rabbit would take offense to the color because he wouldn't be able to see it anyway due to his color blindness; Oswald, at least in terms of sight, falling under the realm of actual reality.

"What if we do everything in black?" Mulan suggested, "We can have fire dancers and swordsman. It'd be great."

Cogsworth shook his head, for despite being several feet away, neither of them were very good at whispering. Granted, one needed to shout regardless to order to hear oneself over the noise that was being produced by Lumiere and his team- Figment, and Iago the Parrot who were trying to set up the lights and the various balloons that Mickey requested, but it was the principle that mattered, and principle was something that Cogsworth took very seriously.

"No" Cogsworth said sharply, "No, no, no, no. Keep it simple ladies. Simple. No flashy colors, no fire. Just lights, balloons, a cake, and a few sparklers."

Aurora and Mulan stared at the clock as if he were insane. Faces stifled with laughter, the two of them tried to respectfully dismiss him, which only further insulted him.

"Listen" Aurora replied, kneeling down, a slight smirk on her face, "He's a rabbit. Not a five year old child. Let's at least make it fun."

Cogsworth huffed and rolled his eyes, as far as he was concerned it was bad enough that the party was being held in the ballroom, a high profile area where large amounts of people were expected to dance and socialize; not an ideal place for a small welcome party. He would have preferred the whole affair not taking place at all or at the very least, have a welcome ceremony or a parade, something that would only last a few minutes, not an entire evening with hours of planning.

"Please Miss" Cogsworth replied, trying his best not to explode into the fiery ball of rage that he wanted to, "At least _try_ to keep things low key. The last thing we want is unnecessary drama."

Mulan and Aurora scoffed and rolled their eyes; Cogsworth worried about things too much, for he was always overly paranoid.

Across the room Lumiere was busy instructing Iago and Figment on the placement of the banner, one of their duties.

"Higher my friends" Lumiere said, "We have to make it extra special for the newcomer!"

Iago, who was working double time in order to keep up with Figment, who was almost three times his size, sighed and groaned.

"Take it easy Lumiere" the bird exclaimed, "I can only take so much here."

Figment, taking the hint, slowed himself down to a gentle hover, as a consequence, Iago began to even out. Lumiere however, took little to no notice and simply continued to shout commands, always higher and always to the left. Figment casually looked up, his head was inches from the ceiling; the banner now completely pointless as all visibility was obstructed by the chandelier that took up most of the space to begin with.

"We need to go lower Lumiere" Figment shouted, "What's the point of putting this thing up if no one's going to be able to see it! We gotta use our heads."

Iago shook his head at the notion, for the last time someone told him to use his head he ended up getting bashed on the head with a haphazardly thrown coconut by Louie, who not only wasn't looking but didn't even bother to apologize for the incident.

"I prefer brawn over brains thanks" Iago said uncharacteristically, "Let's just get this stupid thing up and get down, my wings are killing me."

Figment, who couldn't help but agree, and more for Iago than himself, grabbed both ends of the banner and proceeded, without any particular reason other than because he was getting tired of the whole thing, to rip the banner to shreds.

"What are you doing?" Lumiere said, looking on helplessly, "You're ruining it!"

Figment rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Oswald's not going to care about a stupid banner Lightwick, believe me. He doesn't even like parties."

Lumiere crossed his arms defensively, "And how do you know that?" he asked, "He only just arrived today."

Figment shrugged, in honesty he didn't but he wasn't about to tell Lumiere that for it would only give him fuel to make a conversation that he did not want to have, longer than necessary. As the dragon and the bird descended to the ground, Tiana appeared from the hallway, in her hands a pot, in which was the main dish for the evening, jambalaya, a Cajun specialty. Remy the rat was on her shoulder, who held a spoon and a handful of spices, the final touch.

"Hot stuff coming through" Tiana declared as she made her way to the only table that was set up for the affair in the corner of the room, "This stuff is sure to impress him. If he doesn't love my food I wouldn't know what to make of him."

Remy laughed, for it was incredibly likely that Oswald did not like Cajun or had even heard of it, being from Missouri and thus more accustomed to Mid-Western American cuisine. Still he kept these opinions to himself if only to avoid being hit on the head with a frying pan, something that Tiana was known to do if provoked.

"Calm down Tiana" Remy said, "There's no reason to judge someone based on what kind of food they like. That's ridiculous. Besides you haven't even seen the guy."

Tiana, setting the pot on the table and allowing Remy to scurry down her arm to add the spices, rolled her eyes at the suggestion.

"Give me some credit rat" Tiana replied, slightly insulted, "I think I have a little bit more class than that."

Remy huffed in turn as he added the last of the spices and began mixing with his spoon.

"People who say they have class usually don't" Remy continued, "And it's not 'rat' it's Remy."

Tiana waved him off, for she did not need a lecture on integrity, especially when that lecture came from a rat who lived in garbage half of his life.

"Sorry" Tiana exclaimed, half sincere, "But you're still a rat."

Remy laughed and glanced towards Aurora and Mulan, who were still discussing the matter of decorations with Cogsworth. Tiana, who followed Remy's gaze, also managed to crack a smile, for not only were they notoriously bad whisperers but they were also incredibly expressive when speaking on an issue of great importance.

Aurora, by this point, had abandoned all thoughts of pink and was now switching to blue, suggesting for streamers and jugglers and all manner of things that no one had time nor patience to gather. Mulan, for her part, moved from swords and fire to the more conventional suggestion of musical entertainment in the form of a rock and roll band. Both of them, in arguing for their case, were waving their arms around and shouting over each other; periodically giving the death stare.

"I say we have jugglers" Aurora demanded, almost screaming, "Trapeze artists! Blue on everything and everywhere!"

Mulan, pushing Aurora out of the way, for she was directly in front of Cogsworth, immediately began doing a very bad air guitar.

"No!" she cried, "What we need is some music. Good music. Rock n' roll! Drums! Electric guitars on fire!"

Remy, looking at this scene, turned to Tiana, seeking like-mindedness.

"Can you believe those two?" Remy asked, thankful that Tiana was of better stock not to argue about such things, "Arguing over nothing. Why not just have both?"

Tiana gave a glaring look at Remy, who immediately thought that he had said the wrong thing and retracted, shifting his tail between his legs in slight submission.

"You think so too right?" the rat continued in recovery, rather nervously, "Because if you don't I completely understand; I mean you are a Princess after all and you know what they say: Princesses gotta stick together."

Tiana said nothing and casually made her way out of the room, having things to attend to in the kitchen. Remy wasn't entirely sure if he had dodged a bullet or not and so, for extra measure, took the initiative and followed, in his mind thinking that if he was going to be in trouble he would at least be present for the beating.

"So I take it this means that you're thinking about whether you're offended or not?" Remy asked as he ran, trying to catch up to her in an attempt to be courteous. No sooner did he cross the threshold of the room did Cogsworth burst, his patience and restraint having reached their limit with Mulan and Aurora.

"Get out!" Cogsworth screamed, pointing towards the door and getting behind them, "I don't want to see you in here again for the rest of the day! We don't need trapeze artists, we don't need the color blue, we don't need rock n' roll and we _especially_ don't need _anything_ involving fire or dangerous weapons! Now kindly show ourselves out of my ballroom!"

With this Cogsworth, mustering all the strength that he could find, pushed both Mulan and Aroura out of the ballroom and into the hallway. At the same time, the sound of a frying pan, following very closely by a flying rat, came from the hallway seconds before Cogsworth closed the door and locked it.

The preceding crash that followed caused Cogsworth, Lumiere and company, to turn their heads to find Remy face down on the floor, a large bump on the top of his head. Sitting up to find Lumiere and Figment at his side, the rat looked around and smiled meekly.

"She hates me" Remy declared, laughing to himself but obviously hurt.

Lumiere, in an attempt to be helpful, touched Remy's head, upon which the rat winced in pain.

"Careful" Remy continued, "It's tender!"

Lumiere nodded, slightly hating himself, for he should have known better; Figment, for his part, slapped the candlestick lightly with his wing, amazed at his ignorance. The dragon, feeling vindicated and trying to be empathic, focused his attention on the rat.

"How many times has that happened?" Figment asked, examining the bump.

"Fifty-five" Remy answered promptly, "Mostly it's accidental. But sometimes my damned mouth gets in the way."

Iago laughed from across the room, for he too had the same problem, being incredibly vocal with his opinions and generally honest when answering sincere questions.

"You and I both" the bird replied, "Can't go a few hours without getting knocked on the head."

Remy nodded in agreement and shrugged rather indifferently, turning back to Figment.

"Not like it matters" Remy declared, "Tiana can't stand me, I don't even know what I do wrong. Every time I try to talk to her, strike up a conversation she shuts me out. She doesn't mean to, I don't think, but she does."

Figment carefully behind the rat, continuing his visual inspection, trying to see if there was any more wounds; he found nothing of particular interest. Lumiere meanwhile, took over Figment position as counselor.

"Do you like Tiana?" Lumiere pressed, gauging the nature of the next few phases of the conversation.

Remy shook his head to the contrary, guessing Lumiere's meaning.

"Not in that way" Remy explained, "She's married, besides there's the indecency of it all. No, I just figured: 'She's a cook, it'll be easy to make friends with her' but our personalities don't exactly match. That and she sees me as vermin. Typical."

Cogsworth cleared his throat, interrupting and turning the attention on himself. Remy, incredibly annoyed that he had been cut off in addition to the numbing pain that he was experiencing, crossed his arms and leaned forward.

"What" the rat declared, "Can't you see we're having a moment?"

Cogsworth ignored him and, taking advantage of the opportunity, proceeded to get things back on track.

"Alright" Cogsworth said, clapping his hands, "Let's get our priorities straight. Now, the party is going to start at precisely 1:00, that gives us two hours to get things right."

Lumiere, taking offense, for he believed that schedules and planning were irrelevant as long as people showed up, lit his wicks and made his way towards Cogsworth in the most daring fashion possible.

"Now see here" Lumiere exclaimed, "Isn't being here enough? We have food, we have guests, we have lights and we have space. What more could you _possibly_ want! You want to break our backs? What's the point of killing ourselves? By the time the party starts we'll be so exhausted we won't have time to enjoy it! Lighten up."

Cogsworth groaned and sarcastically laughed, for what Lumiere described was complete and total anarchy in his head; an event without rules, order and structure was not an event as far as he was concerned, and parties were no exception; in fact parties were the ultimate standard for rules, order and structure for they were usually the biggest attractors of crowds, and so needed careful planning.

"You always were the anarchist weren't you Lumiere?" Cogsworth began, "Always having to do things halfway and half-assed. You never finished anything worthwhile in your entire life and when you did it was only because of my organizational skills, something you clearly lack. You have no work ethic, no rationale, and no patience!"

Lumiere laughed, matching Cogsworth's dramatism, "Says the guy who threw out two princesses a few minutes ago? Yeah, and I'm the only who has no patience? You're too wound up Cogsworth, loosen up that damned key of yours and learn to fun. You'll live longer!"

Iago, Figment and Remy, who were watching this display completely confused as what was going on, lacking context, could only shake in disbelief. This was immediately followed by Aurora and Mulan crashing through the locked door and destroying it, each of them brandishing swords.

"I said blue!" Aurora screamed as she swung at Mulan, who ducked and parried.

"Yeah" Mulan answered as she returned an attack of her own, "Well I say we should have fire!"

Aurora laughed and rushed towards Mulan, who in an attempt to be nice, allowed herself to be tackled into the food table, sending the pot of jambalaya across the room and over themselves. Standing up, Aurora looked herself over and, covered in meat and spices, immediately became enraged.

"You bitch!" Aurora continued, her voice never changed pitch or volume, "I bought this dress yesterday!"

Without a second thought Aurora lunged her sword straight for Mulan's head, who jumped and caught the hilt before the blade would hit the wall. Upon landing, Mulan gave Aurora the death stare, which Aurora returned, and promptly ran towards the nearest window, passing the spectators, and smashed it without hesitation only to jump through it, flipping Mulan the middle finger on the way down.

Cogsworth, who at this point was watching, stood beside himself as he began calculating the damages in his head. Lumiere also fell silent, more concerned for Aurora, who had just fell three stories, and hoped that she landed in the bushes. Mulan, in response, also made her way towards the windows but instead of jumping through the broken one smashed a second one and jumped, taking pursuit and turning Cogsworth into a blubbering mess.

"I hate parties" Cogsworth said to himself

Lumiere nodded in understanding and whistled, prompting two enchanted brooms and one from _The Sorcerer's Apprentice_ to enter the room and begin sweeping up the broken glass.


	3. Timon

Chapter Three: Timon

Every morning Animal Kingdom was greeted with "The Circle of Life", one of the most popular songs that came out of a Disney film in recent history. And every morning, as "The Circle of Life" played over the loud speaker and into the park letting visitors in early, on the toon side, Timon began his daily routine.

Timon, who slept on the outskirts of Kilimanjaro Safari, would climb out of the small hovel that he had built for himself and proceed to do fifty-five jumping jacks. This was followed by fifty-five push-ups, fifty-five ab crunches, and a single run through of "Be Prepared" which despite being a villain song was something he found empowering. All of this was done before breakfast, which consisted of grub worms, rice, and water. He would then disappear into his hovel and return dressed in safari gear, a tan open-skin vest and a hat, after which he would proceed into the Africa quarter.

Walking into Africa, now at the Kilimanjaro Safari queue Timon was immediately greeted by Robert Obwe, an employee from Botswana and Africa's equipment manager.

"Greetings Timon" Robert said welcomingly, "How are things Toon Side?"

"Fine" Timon answered, "All things considered."

Robert raised his eyebrows, concerned, for whenever things were considered it meant that something was wrong.

"Timon" Robert replied sternly, "Don't shut me out. We've been friends for years now, you can tell me things."

Timon rolled his eyes and shook his head, for although Robert was speaking the truth, their association going on five years, Timon believed that some things, and some conversations, were meant for certain people. In this case, the only person he could talk to at the moment was Pumbaa.

"Not this time Rob" Timon exclaimed, "Besides, I doubt you'd be much help anyway."

Robert laughed, disagreeing completely.

"Come on Timon" Robert defended, "Just give me a chance. How do you expect me to help if you don't tell me what's going on?"

Timon groaned, annoyed that Robert was trying to get into his personal life.

"Listen" Timon explained, tired and generally not in a good mood, "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I need you to stop. You're only making things worse. Drop it and let's do our jobs."

Robert finally relented, seeing no point in pressuring Timon when it was obvious that he didn't want to talk. Gathering a clipboard with a list of materials, Robert casually began walking down towards the entrance to The Festival of the Lion King; Timon, being in charge of most of Africa in terms of events, but especially with the Festival, followed.

"Let's see" Robert began, going over the list, "We still need that lion replacement-"

Timon nodded, remembering the last Festival, in which Simba, a little overzealous in his delivery, sprained an ankle and broke half of his teeth as he fell off a half finished float; the old one having been replaced a few months previously.

"We also need to replace those harnesses" Robert continued, "Until they're replaced there's no show."

Timon nodded again, making mental notes.

"Take care of it Robert" Timon instructed as he stopped walking, eyeing a group of visitors out of the corner of his eye and following park policy by greeting them, "I've got some things to take care before the show. Keep in touch, we'll talk later."

Robert smiled and gently waved as Timon, in turn, smiled and waved, posing for pictures and hugging children. He knew that Timon, and most of the toons, rarely if ever interacted with the guests, leaving most of that work to the suits, which the toons themselves instructed in regards to mannerisms. Timon's suit was currently off-duty, leaving Timon to do most of the meet-and-greet work, something that although he enjoyed, he rarely had time for given his busy schedule, which is no one's fault but his own.

After the quick meet-and-greet, which concluded with embraces and high-fives, as is customary, Timon made his way back to the toon side, searching for Pumbaa, whom he knew was near the watering hole. If only because of convenience, no sooner did Timon cross the threshold of the two realities did he appear at the far left bank of the pool; opposite from him was Pumbaa, who was accompanied by Banzai, Shenzi and Ed.

The warthog, his back turned towards the watering hole, was sweating out of nervousness. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on or why the hyenas had approached him at all; the only thing he knew was that he had just eaten breakfast and was close to barfing it up out of fear. Banzai, who was closest, took the initiative and carefully placed a paw on Pumbaa's shoulder.

"Here's the deal friend" Banzai began, drawing Pumbaa in as close as he dared, "We're sick and tired of living in that damned graveyard. You get us in the parks and we leave you and all your friends alone."

Shenzi nodded, taking a supportive position coming up on the other side.

"Not just Animal Kingdom either" Shenzi added, "We want full access."

Pumbaa, although now certain that he wasn't going to be eaten, at least for the moment, still couldn't help but feel that he was still in danger. Their request seemed simple enough and it was admirable, even if their ultimate intentions were unclear.

"Only Mickey can do that" Pumbaa answered, "Take it up with him."

Banzai rolled his eyes, for they were forbidden to speak with Mickey and it was incredibly unlikely that he would ever visit the Pride Lands.

"The mouse won't come here" Banzai declared, annoyed, "Not on his own. He needs to be convinced, coerced, if necessary."

Pumbaa raised his eyebrows, trying to read Banzai to see if there was anything in terms of deceit.

"Why do you care?" Pumbaa asked, curious, "You've never seemed to care before. Why start now?"

Banzai immediately became hesitant, then as if against his better judgment, answered him.

"Look at us" Banzai replied, glancing towards Shenzi and Ed, the former picking out bugs of the latter's hide, "We're pathetic."

Shenzi, listening in, was not about to let Banzai speak on her behalf, for she was perfectly capable of speaking for herself. Pulling off the last of the bugs from Ed's back, she turned towards Banzai and Pumbaa, giving them both a stare that spoke volumes.

"Thanks to killjoy over here" Shenzi said, motioning to Banzai, "I've got responsibilities now."

Banzai smiled meekly and waved her off.

"Come on" Banzai said playfully, "You know you liked it. At least I'm better than Ed."

Shenzi huffed and rolled her eyes, for she begged to differ, in her experience the crazy ones always seemed to perform better; but that was beside the point.

"Anyway" Shenzi continued, getting back on track and focusing back on Pumbaa, "In order to provide we're going to need space. And what better place to raise a family than the Best Place on Earth?"

Banzai nodded in full agreement, leaning against the warthog as if he were about to bite off his ear, causing Pumbaa to tense up once again.

"Get us an audience with Mickey" Banzai continued, as he brushed past Pumbaa's chest, heading towards the graveyard, "For your own sake if nothing else."

Ed laughed hysterically at this, the thought of digging his teeth into something alive excited him; the urge to kill something that moved had emerged. In a fit of blind hunger and lust, the hyena, overcome with the desire, bolted from the watering hole and into the sprawling savannah, leaving Banzai, Shenzi and Pumbaa looking after him.

"Great" Shenzi said to herself, "Come on Banzai, let's round him up."

Banzai nodded in agreement, knowing full the amount of destruction that Ed could cause if left unattended.

"We'll be in touch" Banzai declared in parting, "Think about it pig."

Pumbaa nodded and huffed, essentially blowing him off, wanting nothing to do with the hyenas, caring less about their plight. This was mostly born out of prejudice and past experience with Scar's brief reign. Still, a part of him felt pity, if only slight pity, for their situation. No sooner did they leave did Timon, who had taken his time walking about the watering hole, as well as observing the conversation from afar out of curiosity, come up from behind.

"How you doing you big lummox?" Timon said warmly, opening up his arms for an embrace.

Pumbaa, at hearing Timon's voice, quickly turned around with eyes as bright as they could be, his small and wispy tail wagging as if he were a dog.

"Timon!" Pumbaa exclaimed jubilantly, accepting the embrace as squeezing the meerkat as hard as he could, "It's been so long! How've you been?"

Timon shrugged, deciding to ease his way into the conversation that he was about to have.

"Things have been better Pumbaa" Timon replied, "The Festival's been keeping me busy."

Pumbaa nodded, at the same time looking Timon over, noticing that the meerkat looked significantly different since the last time he saw him.

"What have you been doing?" Pumbaa asked, "You look good."

Timon smiled and playfully shoved Pumbaa, his own way of telling him to let off of the pleasantries a bit.

"I've been taking care of myself" Timon explained, as he looked Pumbaa over in turn, seeing that he had obviously been doing the opposite, "And you have been getting fatter. What the females thought you were too skinny or something?"

Pumbaa snorted, insulted, for Timon knew that he had no females with which to court. Not that he minded, being a self-declared life-long bachelor for protection purposes, that and his personal history, which was often negative when it came to women.

"I'm past my prime Timon" Pumbaa said as he knelt down towards the water, "Besides I've got responsibilities now. Got things I need to see to."

Timon understood, for there were a million and a half things that he should have been doing at the moment, instead choosing not to do them; for there were other days and other times for which to do everything that was required. At the moment the only thing that mattered was talking with Pumbaa.

Sitting down on the bank and dipping his feet into the cold water, Timon sighed and closed his eyes. Taking off his hat and vest and folding them as neatly as possible, the meerkat paused for a moment as if in thought, and then grabbed Pumbaa as tight as he could and flipped him over into the water. Emerging seconds later, Pumbaa, gasping for air, the warthog not a decent swimmer, glared at Timon with annoyed and scared eyes; Timon, for his part, only laughed as Pumbaa, struggling, reached the bank and shook himself off.

"Don't do that!" Pumbaa whined, "You know I don't like water!"

Timon only laughed some more, unable to control himself at Pumbaa's misfortune. The warthog, draining water out of his ears, was starting to remember why he hadn't seen Timon in years: the meerkat had become incredibly aggressive and overbearing. Why this was Pumbaa couldn't figure out, maybe it was due to being overworked at the park or maybe it was he was alone for considerable amount of time or that outside of himself Timon rarely had any friends to speak of.

"You need help Timon" Pumbaa continued as he shook the last of the water out of his ear, "Like serious help."

Timon slowly began to calm down and rise to his feet, using Pumbaa's leg to stable himself.

"Come on don't take it that way" Timon replied, still laughing as he wiped his eyes and gathered his clothes, "I was only joking."

Pumbaa huffed and shook his head in disbelief, taking a step back and forcing Timon to stand on his own.

"Joking is one thing" Pumbaa answered, "But that was cruel. What happened to you Timon? You're not a cruel person, you're kind and honest and good. Loyal to a fault! What happened to _that_ Timon? Where he is huh?"

Timon straightened up, recognizing the seriousness of the conversation, immediately becoming uncomfortable as he body begin to tense up once again. This was quickly substituting with three simultaneous emotions- guilt, shame, and angst, which took over the majority of his thoughts for the time being and prompted him to answer.

"He's gone Pumbaa" Timon said sadly, "He's been gone a long time. I don't know if he'll ever come back, but if he does I'll let you know."

Pumbaa wanted to tear his own ears out at this discovery, unable to bear the words. He wasn't entirely sure what to make Timon, if he should be angry, sad, or afraid; in the end he decided to feel none of these, ultimately taking the higher path.

"You disappoint me Timon" Pumbaa declared as he walked away, refusing to be in such negative company any longer, "And here I thought you had changed for the better."

As Pumbaa walked away, leaving a trail of footprints behind him and the slight stench that always seemed to accompany him, Timon instantly felt the loneliness of complete and total desertion. It was a feeling that he swore to himself that he would never feel again, and so, in an effort to escape it, returned to the park, in hope of finding happier places.


	4. 1001 Ways to Cook Rabbit and Duck

**Author's Note: Some of the language that is used by Brer Rabbit, particularly the phrase "coon's age", an old reference of time as well as a slang term, is antiquated and as a result may be taken to be offensive. This is not the intention, it is merely a representation of the 1930's and 1940's, from which these characters originate from. They are to be treated as products of their time, nothing more, nothing less.**

* * *

Chapter Four: 1001 Ways to Cook Rabbit and Duck

So it was that Oswald the Lucky Rabbit and Donald Duck found themselves rotating on a spit over an open flame. Preacher Fox, being an animal of his word, cackled and laughed to himself as he looked over "1001 Ways to Cook Duck" and the companion book, "1001 Ways to Cook Rabbit" which he borrowed on loan from Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck respectively. As he looked their notes, for Bugs and Daffy had taken considerable time making annotations, Oswald and Donald, rotating on their spit, couldn't help but to look at Brer Rabbit, who was sitting on a nearby rock.

"Great" Oswald said to himself, as sarcastic as possible, "Thanks a lot Brer, you couldn't have warned us about this?"

Brer Rabbit folded his arms, insulted, and shook his head.

"Now why would I do a doggone thing like that for?" Brer Rabbit exclaimed, "Yall is park boys, and park boys ain't nothing but trouble. If I had a nickel for every time a park boy caused me trouble, I'd be living in Beverly Hills."

Oswald huffed, for he had difficulty believing that Brer Rabbit had actually that many visitors; his reputation, and the fact that they were relatively dirty compared to the rest of the Disneys that he had seen throughout the park, clear giveaways.

"You can't honestly believe that can you?" Oswald continued, trying to stall the prospect of being burned alive from entering his mind for as long as possible, "Look at where you are! This place is falling apart!"

Preacher Fox growled at the notion, for technically speaking, they were in his cave; forty feet from where they were was a bed and a dresser, on which was a sole picture: happier times with better company.

"Watch your words rabbit" Fox warned, "I might just fricassee you right now!"

Donald stifled his laughter to the best of his ability, ultimately failing due to the rope. Oswald raised his eyebrows in confusion, curious as to why the duck was laughing.

"Are you kidding me?" Oswald declared, "This isn't the time to be laughing Donald, we're rotating on a spit!"

Donald nodded in completely understanding and yet still unable to control himself. To his credit, the laughter was justified, the mention of the word 'fricassee' and the fact that Preacher Fox was reading "1001 Ways to Cook Rabbit" an obvious association with the Warner Brothers studio, specifically the numerous occasions with Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd over hunting licenses, both characters with which Donald was friends with, having decided to have free association with other studios in the event of another _Who Framed Roger Rabbit?_ scenario; wanting to be on good terms with all respective parties. Also, it was because Donald was a decent person and as a result did not care about the rivalry between the two studios. But more about that later, now, let us return to a delayed punchline.

"Are you sure have a license for that?" Donald asked through his laughter, "Because you need a license to hunt a fricasseeing rabbit."

Preacher Fox laughed and pulled out his wallet, in which was a driver's license, a miniature picture of the one that rested on his night table, fifty dollars in 1930's currency, and a standard hunting license for the state of Florida.

"Does this answer your question?" Fox said smugly as he pulled out the hunting license, "I can hunt duck, deer; rabbit: whatever I damn well please. Besides, I'm a fox, huntin' natural as breathing."

Donald shrugged and turned meekly to Oswald, who only shook his head in disbelief at the duck's momentary stupidity.

"I don't believe this" Oswald said to himself, accepting the circumstances, "I'm surrounded by idiots!"

Brer Rabbit stood up and casually moved towards Preacher's Fox night stand. He stared at the picture and wondered why he kept it for so long. It was simple in nature, Preacher Fox was leaning against a fence, behind which was a cornfield. Brer Bear was tied up, hanging upside down on a post, while Brer Rabbit was on Preacher Fox's opposite; all of them were smiling and holding scripts of _Song of the South_. It was then that Brer Rabbit remembered that his entire life, including was fabricated, a product of Hollywood and Walt Disney. Under normal circumstances this fact would be just fine, but given the fact that Brer Rabbit and the residents of Briar Patch were almost cast out of history, the reason for their existence seemed less clear.

"Hey Preacher" Brer Rabbit said as he turned around, "How come you got this here picture? You gone soft?"

Preacher Fox huffed and looked up from his reading, still trying to figure out the proper way to cook rabbit and duck together.

"Just never you mind that" Preacher Fox declared, "Now git back over here where I can see yah, else you'll be added to the menu!"

Brer Rabbit, not wanting to risk a confrontation with Preacher Fox and get himself in more trouble than necessary, did as he was told and meandered back to his rock, on the way picking up a shard of slate with his foot and casually sliding it towards the stewing pot. Taking his seat, Brer Rabbit crossed his legs and subtly drooped his ears behind his head, his eyes set firmly on Oswald and the blubbing stew.

The slight clink of the slate hitting the pot caught Oswald's attention, by the time he made his third rotation he was able to see it, as well as Brer Rabbit's ears, a signal that something was about to happen. Taking this into consideration and guessing that he was about to be sprung, Oswald turned to Donald and began using his ears to tap the duck's shoulders.

"What is it Os?" Donald asked, having been relatively quiet, thinking to himself about how he was going to get out of here.

Oswald tapped Donald shoulder a few times, using Morse code. Donald, relying on his Navy experience, interpreted the message in his head and began to whistle "How Do You Do?" He waited a few seconds; upon hearing nothing, he tried again. This time he was answered with "Pretty Good, Sure as You're Born", the next words of the Splash Mountain Melody. Rotating on the spit once more Donald continued the song despite himself, Oswald meanwhile, continued to look around; in the corner of his eye he could see Mr. Bluebird, high in the ceiling of the cave on a small ledge, next to him was Ms. Bat, another resident of the Briar Patch, as well as Mr. Possum; all carrying rocks, ready to throw.

Preacher Fox moved over the pot and leaned down, checking the fire, his face inches from the slate rock that Brer Rabbit had found. In response, Brer Rabbit stood and stooped down, feigning curiosity.

"Whatcha doing Preacher?" Brer Rabbit began, keeping on hand out of view in order to grab the rock and reach it up to Oswald.

"Checkin' the fire Rabbit" Fox answered, "Thinking about having seconds and I'm goanna need a bigger flame. What say you?"

Brer Rabbit laughed and shrugged indifferently.

"How do you take your coffee Preacher?" Brer Rabbit asked, "You're goanna need something to drink with this stew, and it's still too early for anything else."

Preacher Fox raised his eyebrows in confusion, pulling out his pocket watch that he always kept, the fox stared and noticed that it was well past noon, and so not necessarily a time for coffee. Still, if only because Brer Rabbit was being neighborly, and perhaps unaware of the time, Preacher Fox answered his question.

"I usually take mine with two lumps of sugar, but it's way too late for-"

Brer Rabbit jumped on top of Preacher Fox with the excitable energy of a puppy who about to be thrown a stick and grasped the fox tuft of fur that was on his chest.

"Oh no Preacher" Brer Rabbit said as he guided the fox slightly to the right, pushing him into position, "Two lumps is much too small-"

Brer Rabbit flicked his ears once; at that moment Mr. Bluebird and his friends made their attack, throwing rocks as hard as they could, landing directly on Preacher's Fox head, knocking him to the ground.

"How about that?" Brer Rabbit continued as he dusted himself off, having been thrown to the ground as the fox fell, "That enough for yah?"

Preacher Fox stood up and shook his head rapidly, trying his best to prevent the stars that were rotating around his head from impeding his vision as well as drive away the birds that had begun to tweet in his ears.

"Why you little two-timing-" Preacher Fox screamed, cutting himself off out of his rage, "I ought to skin you where you stand!"

Brer Rabbit nodded and shook his head, laughing once again, causing Oswald and Donald, who in the middle of freeing themselves with the slate they had been given, to follow suit and laugh in turn.

"You could do that if you like" Brer Rabbit continued, stalling for time, "But don't it would be easier if you just took a load off? Rest for a bit. After all you've been working so hard and doing so much, why this is the best lookin' I've ever seen in a coon's age-"

Preacher Fox stepped forward and unsheathed his claws, causing Brer Rabbit, sticking to the plan, to step forward. Were the fox to jump, given the proximity between himself and Rabbit, he would slam directly into the cave wall, recognizing this, Preacher Fox stepped back, unintentionally making himself a target once again.

"Flattery will get you nowhere Rabbit, not this time" Preacher Fox sneered, "This time

I got the best of you!"

Brer Rabbit laughed again and nodded, bowing slightly.

"Of _course_ " Brer Rabbit continued sarcastically, "You're prowess and you're cunning have won the day once again. I submit and accept utter defeat. Go ahead, do what you will."

It was then that Brer Bear appeared, swinging from a rope into the cave, grabbing Preacher Fox, giving Brer Rabbit the opportunity to knock over the pot and free Oswald and Donald. Preacher Fox, now in the hands of Brer Bear, who slammed against the wall, was spewing as many profanities as he possibly could, cursing Brer Rabbit, Brer Bear, and everyone he had ever met, including his mother, upon which Brer Bear punched him as hard as he could in face, effectively giving him a black eye.

"Respect yer elders" Brer Bear said with a slow and careful voice, being a bit dim-witted, "And leave these good folks alone you hear?"

Preacher Fox nodded, submitting out of fear of being pummeled, for what the bear lacked in brains he made up for in brawn.

"I swears it" Preacher Fox exclaimed desperately, trying to weasel his way out of the situation, "I won't bother nobody no-how."

Brer Bear huffed and released him, no sooner did Preacher Fox right himself did another rock, thrown by Mr. Possum, hit him square in his good eye and bring him to the ground. Cursing once again, Preacher Fox crawled to his bed, surrendering for the time being, giving amble time for Brer Rabbit, Oswald, Donald and the others to make their escape into the Briar Patch.

By the time they returned to Brer Rabbit's house by the river, it was ten minutes till 2 o'clock. Staring at his watch, Donald sighed and shook his head pitifully, causing Oswald and Brer Rabbit to look with slight concern.

"What's wrong?" Oswald began, "You late for something?"

Donald nodded, laughing to himself. He had been given strict instructions to keep Oswald away from the party until the appointed time, which was part of the reason why Mickey told him to go Splash Mountain in the first place, the mouse inferencing that it would longer than expected given the people who were in charge of the operation; but all of that would be useless if they didn't show up at all or arrived late, everything having been set to a minute-by-minute schedule.

"We gotta be at Beast's Castle in ten minutes" Donald answered promptly.

"Why?" Oswald pressed, "What's over there?"

Donald laughed again, looking slightly upwards.

"Mick's been planning a party for yah" Donald continued, seeing no point in hiding, "He wants things on your first day so we've been on a tight schedule. If we're late, I've got hell to pay."

Oswald huffed, believing Donald to be over-exaggerating for the sake of drama.

"Come on Donald its Mickey" Oswald said, "How bad could it be? What I'm late to party and he what, throws you in a pit or something?"

Donald shook his head, for it was nothing that crass, instead it was something that the duck to be much worse.

"No" Donald corrected, "You're late to that party and I have to ride It's a Small World consecutively for an entire day. So let's do our best here, we've already wasted enough time."

Crossing into the park, Donald and Oswald, accompanied with Brer Rabbit and Brer Bear, Mr. Bluebird and the others opting to stay, for they had things to see to, stood in front of the reconstruction of Brer Rabbit's hovel. Brer Rabbit, at seeing the plastic structure, could only scowl and shake his head.

"Look at this" Brer Rabbit said to no one in particular, "The color's all wrong. My door is bright red-"

Brer Rabbit then saw what he believed to be the worst thing he could've have seen: himself. The park version of Brer Rabbit was short, fat, and rounder in the face than the Disney on which it was based, who was tall and relatively skinny in all areas. At seeing the small robotic version of himself, Brer Rabbit exploded, much like Preacher Fox he spewed profanities but avoided his mother and close friends, instead cursing the park and specifically Walt Disney, for allowing this to happen. During his rant he proceeded an attempt to rip the animatronic from its foundation, but upon finding that it was too heavy, took a different approach and came from behind, at the very least, thinking that the removal of the head would get the point across.

"Brer Bear" Brer Rabbit exclaimed, struggling a bit in the effort, "Help me get rid of this confound contraption will you?"

Brer Bear hesitated, walking slowly and carefully, trying not to step into the water, a few feet from where he stood.

"You shouldn't be doing that" Brer Bear said warningly, "It's vandalism."

Brer Rabbit huffed, annoyed and slightly disappointed, he had spent too much time and money convincing Brer Bear to help him against Preacher Fox only for him to be stopped at the merest sign of wrongdoing, even if was justifiable.

"You can just forget about your pay then" Brer Rabbit exclaimed, using the only leverage he had, "Kiss that fifteen dollars goodbye Brer Bear, cause you won't be seein' none of it! Not if I have say about it."

Brer Bear shook his head rapidly in denial, for he had been needing the money for some time in order to buy a hat, the one he currently had nothing more than a rag.

"Oh please Rabbit" Brer Bear begged, "Don't do that, I needs the money-"

Brer Bear took off his hat and waved it around, demonstrating its feebleness.

"Look at this here hat!" Brer Bear continued, "Way it's falling apart at the seams it is; hell it doesn't even have any seams which to fall apart from!"

Brer Rabbit nodded, continuing to lift the head to no avail.

"Then I suggest you get over here and help me" Brer Rabbit exclaimed, "Else you'll be wearing that rag for the rest of your natural life!"

Brer Bear sighed and relented. Pushing the rabbit off of the head, the bear, wrapping himself around it, used all of his strength and pulled, revealing the wires and circuits underneath that made it work.

"There" Brer Bear declared as he threw the head in the water, "Happy now Brer Rabbit?"

Brer Rabbit chuckled to himself and fished out the money he had promised, slapping the bear on his side as gently as he could.

"Thank you Brother Bear" he replied, "You've always come through for me. You're a real friend."

Donald and Oswald, still trying to figure out the best way to get to Beast's Castle and completely oblivious to the destruction of park property, had finally run out of viable ideas. Seeing no choice, they decided, for the practice of goodwill if nothing else, to enlist the Brers for help.

"Listen" Donald said as he walked over, staring at his watch, "We've got five minutes to get to Beast's Castle. It's too far to walk there. Any ideas?"

Brer Rabbit scratched his head for a moment or two, thinking to himself and scheming. He then began to pace and ponder the situation to the best of his ability. It didn't take long for him to come up with an idea.

"Before I tells yah" Brer Rabbit answered, "I humbly ask a favor."

Donald shrugged, the request seemed fair, given the circumstances. He waved his hand in a circular motion, allowing the rabbit to continue.

"Don't forget about us. That don't mean I want anything from yah, I don't need a job or nothing; just don't forget us."

Oswald stepped forward and extended his hand, nodded in full agreement.

"You're okay in my book" Oswald said, "Just promise me that the next time I come to dinner I'm not part of the meal."

Brer Rabbit chuckled and shook his head, "You park boys is alright" he said, "Now, come on, let's get you to that castle."

Two minutes later, Brer Rabbit had taken a log fume and tied with a rope to a spring, taking a page from Wile E. Coyote, which he had never heard of or met, and making a makeshift catapult, the rope tied to a stake, which went cut would send the log flying through the air. Brer Bear stood behind it the machine with a knife, ready to cut the rope once it was in position.

"Ready Brer Bear?" Brer Rabbit asked as he stepped forward, his foot wrapping around unintentionally around the rope, "Make it a nice clean cut, don't want anything to happen now."

Brer Bear nodded and took the rope with his hand, checking the tautness and slightly raising Brer Rabbit's foot as a result. Seeing this, Brer Bear hesitated once again, having half a mind to tell Brer Rabbit of the danger, but stopped; smiling a bit and giving Brer Rabbit the look of absolution as well as a fond goodbye, the bear cut the rope. No sooner did this happen did the log fly through the air, and Brer Rabbit with it, screaming his head off and praying to God. Looking at this and laughing to himself, Brer Bear stuck the knife in a nearby tree and whistling, disappearing into the Briar Patch to have tea and honey with Mr. Bluebird.


End file.
